Fair Rivarly
by FlutterbyButterfly
Summary: Carl is one of the best inventors. Seen by all as the only one fit to create weapon for their knights...but what if...there was another. NOT a mary-sue.
1. An Inventor's Introduction

Well, this is going to be a short story, not very long, but i hope you enjoy it an such. Oh and please review, it pushes me to write faster.

thankies.

Disclaimer: i own nothing....except from MY inventor whom carl is going to have to put up with.

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Carl was an wonderful inventor…no not a wonderful inventor, a fabulous inventor. In his head all day long played pictures of gears and pulleys, but mind you, every person has their rival, and even this fabulous inventor had his. Now before you jump to conclusions that this is some sort of Mary-sue or lovey-dovey romantic spur of bad writing and lemons every two chapters. You are wrong. This has no crushes nor any hands holding that leads to other things. No, this is strictly rivalry at it's best between two fabulous inventors. Now if you are not a fan of Carl's I suggest you leave at this moment because there is not shirtless Van helsings nor any Carl bashing…unless you include what pain his rival puts him through.

Now seeing that I have informed you of the contents of this story that is about to be placed into motion, I thank you for reading this far and bearing with me the trivial but necessary warnings and telling of what is in this spur of writing.

But I suppose you are now bored of this intro diction, so then just for you I will begin with the first chapter. Now the setting is as always, in the basement of the Vatican, in the workshop where men (and women) from all over come to help fight evil and build contraptions to help them in this Holy Quest. Now you will notice that near the far back there is a man with a horrible hair cut, much like that or a squire from medieval times, rummaging through his many belonging from trinkets to tools. He looks irritated and slightly miffed.

And here in the mist of his miffed ness we begin this story about rivalry, breaking the rules, and two people who have great differences having to put up with one another.

So onto the story, I believe that is the best line to use.

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Next chappie should be up soon seeing as how i have sooooooooo much time on my hands. lol


	2. An Extravagant Educate

Okay, here's the second chappie done at 1:00 in the morning cuz I couldn't sleep, lucky you. And thankies for all the reviews, they make me feel special.lol.

Disclamier: I don't own Carl, or vanHelsing, or punny Cardinal...but I do own my Own Creations. Mwhaaaaaaa.

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Now, Mr: Flint was not a fickle or picky man, he simply enjoyed things and expected thing to live up and work up to his expectations, which in his mind, were not that demanding. He liked his tea not to cold and not to hot with two flat spoons of sugar, he liked his books to be in alphabetical order with the spines right-side up, and he enjoyed his dinner at 6:00 on the dot, not at 6:15 and not at 5:50, but that is perfectly normal in his view. He was your Basic English man with his black bowler hat and prim suit with its white and black pins stripes along with his prim and straight mustached that lent slightly to the left. But other then that everything was in order when it came to him, from his shiny leather boots to his comb-over. Most would see this as someone trying to be prefect, but I promise you this is simply his nature, to be clean and well cut. 

Needless to say that this well-cut ness spreads to his choices in apprentices. Through he seemed to take the precise look of an advocate or a doctor, he was neither of the two, no this man was a well know inventor among his peers and enjoyed the challenge of taking on students who showed potential. Needless to say in his choosing of apprentices he is quiet picky. They can't be too short (won't be able to reach the top of the counters) and can't be too tall (bump their heads on the chandeliers in the foyer), they can't talk too much or too little, and they cannot be American. He had nothing against the Yankees but he was English….they had to know how to make English tea. He could put up with a French student and be content with a German apprentice, but he greatly preferred an English student.

So of course his first choice would be a fellow English-man, though he did have a Spanish student, very quick….not very bright.

But of all his apprentices of the past, his most favorite to teach and torture was Carl. Young Carl with his stutters and wild imagination that a boogeyman was under his bed. The very thought of it made Mr.: Flint laugh, which brings us to the setting of this story. The setting at the moment is a courtyard, in the front of the Vatican where said Mr.: Flint is standing by his carriage with a interested look on his face as a young person behind him struggles with a number of large parcels and bags ranging form leather sacks to carpet bag that are close to falling apart. But Flint pays no mind as a small figure in a brown robe approached him in a seeming sprint.

The figure of course was non-other then Carl, Friar Carl to be exact. As usual he has his squire like hair cut and nervous expression plastered on his features as he (in a hesitant manner) approaches the prim Mr.: Flint with mixed feelings of excitement….and dread. But of course Mr.: Flint did not notice this as he clapped his hand of the small man back, causing him to lurch forward slightly.

"Carl, my boy, it's wonderful to see you again" he said, grinning widely, making his moustache seem even more lopsided. Looking up at his old teacher, Carl struggled with an expression that leaned between a smile and a breaking down in tears look.

"Mr. F…Flint, it's nice to see you again to" he said to Flint who grinned wider and looked Carl up and down in a calculating way.

"well….you did become a Monk….I mean a Friar…pardon you look so much like one of those monks, it's so difficult to tell the difference between the two" he told Carl as he motioned to the young person behind him without looking back as Carl smiled stiffly again.

"Now Carl, I hope you followed my request from two rooms" he said to Carl who nodded with a confusion look on his face as the person Flint was motioning to stepped forward to revel.

"this is Evelyn, my genius student" he boosted as the luggage dropped to show a young girl, about fifteen or sixteen with light blond locks tied back with a grey ribbon and dressed in a heavy yet delicate looking black and purple dress. It was to the ankles with black lace at the bottom and at the collar as purple ribbons was tied about her long sleeves. She had brown eyes, like seaweed that had been left out in the sun for too long and fair skin. She looked like a doll…..almost….if it weren't for that irritated expression on her face.

Carl looked her up and down, with his brows knitted together. –genius student?.....but but….I AM the greatest student he ever had- he complained to himself as he looked at the girl before his who hadn't even finished school yet. But placing his feeling aside he nodded.

"Hello, I am Carl, Friar Carl, and yes I did get you two rooms sir" he said as Flint smiled and motioned for the girl to take the bags. Evelyn took one brief look at Carl and returned to picking up the seemingly heavy bags. Carl winched slightly, remembering when he had to carry around bags full of equipment, books, tea sets, and so forth as Flint would simply walk with free hands.

"just point the way Carl…oh and can you get Evelyn a station…wherever it that you invent…just because we are not at home does not mean she has to be deprived of what is natural to her" he told Carl as they began to walk off in the direction of the Vatican, Evelyn dragging the bags.

"Yes…a station…..of course" Carl said, a frown littering his features.

He did not like this.

Not at all.

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There you go, hope you enjoyed it, please review. thankies. 


	3. An Frightening Female

Bwhahaha, yes I am alive, it has been a very long time. But for the first time, in a long time, I have the time to write. So I gope you enjoy it, sorry if I am a bit rusty, it has been a while. please R&R!

Disclaimer: I-Own-Nothing, besides Evelyn and Mr.Flint...they are MINE!

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Footsteps echoing within the great entrance of the Vatican, Carl looked back to make sure his company was following and not laging behind. As usual, Mr.Flint was inspecting and overlooking the paintings on the ceiling and walls, his eyes seeming to drink in the gold lacing and vibrant hues. Tumbs hooked in the belt holder of his pants, he clicked his heels in approval, a ghost of a satisfied smile on his aging face. Evelyn on the other hand, was a different story. Only one word could describe the emotions set on her face. Pure and utter bordeum, her face resembled that of a five year old, forced to go to a musem, only to be told to stay put and watch the painting. Painting as in singular, as in "never move". That is the expression that her face held, and she looked ready to burst, or have a tantrum. The group stood in the foyer for a good ten minutes as Mr. Flint inspected the murals and even the floor with great interest.

"can you just imagine, Michleangelo walked on this very floor!" he proclaimed, adjusting the specticals on the bridge of his nose, as they slowing slipped down. "fasinating" he muttered under his breath.

On the side, Carl was wipping the sweat off his hands, even now he still wanted oh-so-very-much to please his former tutor. But it seemed he was still the same stuttery Carl, the one who was unable to get a decent hair cut and alwasy seemed to walk in or speak up at the worst of times. As Mr. Flint continued on, Carl cleared his throat, catching the inventor's attention and causing Evelyn to look over at his lazily.

"well um.I-I think we should continue um...on to the...d-d-d" he stuttered.

"dormitories"Evelyn spoke up for the first time with a strained smile. Her voice sounded strained. like a lemon being overly squeezed, yet smooth at the same time, showing obvious charsmatic charactersitics.

"um...yes those" Carl agreed lamely, as he motioned with his hand towards one of the side doors in the foyer. Walking in a half trip, Carl opened the door, and held it wide for Mr.Flint and the bag-carreying Evelyn. Creaking as it closed behind them, Carl jumped slightly. Living in the Order and working with the ever rash Van Helsing has perminatly made the friar both skittish and jumpy at any small sound. As it was shown at this moment, wipping some sweat from his brow he lead them down the hall and a pair of stairs to the area where they would be staying.

"this sir, i-is you room" he told Mr.Flint who nodded and opened to door, reveling a modest yet well furnished room of comendable size.

"very nice old chap, very nice" he told Carl, patting him on the back again, casuing the poor man to fall forward a tad. "Not quiet like the first rate hotels that we passed, but still good" he added, making Carl's face slightly drop.

Behind him he heard a noise, and saw Evelyn place three of the five bags down on the floor. They hit the ground with a clang here, and a tad of a boom there. Stretching her arms above her head, she looked over at Carl with a blank face. It took a while for him to catch on, but once he did he went over to the door across the hall and opened it.

"and this i-is um...yours" he informed her. It was smaller then her tutor's room and more modest with one less chair. Walking in, she went over to the middle of the room and put down her bags more lightly then Mr.Flints, being careful with one but placing down so gently you would think it might explode.

Which was what went through Carl's head.

-does she also deal with viscous materials?-he wondered to himself, as she walked up to him and crossed her arms.

"where do I work?" she asked bluntly, as Mr.Flint chuckled behind Carl.

-I'm surrounded- was the first paranoid thought that popped into the friar's head as he turned to see his formoer tutor and then turned again to see the girl whom he started to dislike more and more.

"now, Evelyn show respect to Carl here"he chidded her, causing a strange expression to arise on her face "he was ofcourse, my finest student" he said with a hint of pride in his voice, as Carl in turn puffed out his chest.

A gint of something dangerous flicked across the girl's brown eyes, that it seemed only Carl saw, and right away he felt that awful chill go down his spine. That he also aquired from working with Van Helsing, that chill that told him that either.

a) he has crossed a line of some sort that was never pointed out to him

b)he was in serious troble that he most likely won't come out alive from

c) he was catching a cold

d)all of the above.

And for some undescriable reason, he had a feeling that he should have added in a "e" with the title, "both a and b" becuase the look the young woman was giving him gave him a nice bout out the hibbie gibbies. Her eyes were still on Carl, eyes that looked ready to shoot nine inche poision arrows relesed from heavy weight oak cross bow with recieveing...-hrmmmm not a bad idea for a new weapon- Carl thought to himself, getting caught up in his inventive mind. Plans were already forming in his wild mind, the cut, the exact lengths and weights, he was so engrossed, that he did not catch Mr.Flint giving him a impressed look.

"i see you are planning something old boy" he stated, nodding his head as Carl looked at him blankly. He heard a strange tittering sound behind him and turned to see Evelyn clencthing her small fists.

open.

close.

open.

-oh boy- He thought to him, eyes wide. -scary girl...-he concluded, nodding to himself. A hand clamped on his shoulder, and he looked once again to see Mr.Flint walking away.

"if you don't mind old chap, i would like to view the rest of the church" he said to Carl, walking down the hall "come Evelyn"he told her, looking back at her for a second and went one his way.

Clearing his throat, Carl felt uneasy under Evelyn's stare which had the strange ablitly to make him want to hide under the nearest chair, desk, and/or bed. A lick of his lips and a breath or two and he found his voice.

"it will be n-n-nice to have a f-fellow inventor around" he lied, straining a smile and opening his arms in a sense to friendship, though he did not open his arms in a literal state. "i am sure w-we will get along well...perhaps...even b-b-become friends?" he ended in an whimpering sound. At that point a strange smile had formed on her face.

"that i hightly doubt" she stated as a fact, and followed the direction the Mr.Flint had taken. "there can only be one great inventor" she added as she rounded the corner and disappered, leaving Carl to stand by the door of her bedroom which he closed, with one though on his mind.

-I am in serious troble-

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Hope you liked it! if you did, R&R hands cookies out to those who review :D 


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